Level 2
by BeyondShadows16
Summary: What happened to Matt and Mello after they died?
1. Intro

Note To The Reader: So this is a Matt and Mello thing. I dunno if I'll hint some MattxMello in here, but I might. This is simply the introduction to the story and isn't really an official chapter, explaining why it's so short... So... Enjoy!

Note to whoever Reads Chained Assassin: Don't worry! I haven't forgotten about it! Just taking a little break, and starting something new. I will finish Chained Assassin... Eventually.

"Target heading in southwest downtown area in a cherry red 1968 Camaro. Get some men down there! Now! Block him at all costs."

The engine roared at the striking car bulleted down the smooth pavement. 'The idiots…' Matt thought bitterly. 'I swear, once I get back, Mello is dead. I'm sick of doing his dirty work…' He glanced in the rearview mirror to spot two black cars on his tail. A single smile spread across his face. "And now, It gets interesting." He mutters through his tightly pressed lips that now began to curl into a smile, all the while holding his cigarette. His grip on the wheel tightened, causing his leathered hands to squeak. 'Just a simple right up here and I should be…" Tires squealed under the stress of the road as Matt peered at the scene if front of him. "Hmm?" He slammed on the breaks, his car spinning out of control. Now his hear began to start racing. This wasn't part of the plan… They shouldn't have known where he was going. He should have easily left the cars back in his trails… He was supposed to get away, meet up with Mello and the hostage… He was blocked in. Somehow they had known the general direction he would end up in. A semicircle of black cars blocked of all streets. His car finally came to a rest in the middle of the circle, the two cars formerly pursuing him now closed in the rest of the circle. He must have miscalculated. Now he must improvise. Shouldn't be to hard…

Men, armed men, at least a few dozen of them slide from their respective seats in the cars and slowly aimed pistols at the red Camaro. 'So those cars got ahead of me huh… How many damn body guards does one woman need anyway?' He thought, evaluating the situation. He was totally surrounded. Any and all escape routes blocked. No weapon but a now empty smoke gun. No ammo. No defense. Game Over... Wait, not yet. Improvise.

"Hey, c'mon. Give me a break." Likeable, easy-going attitude. "Since when are the Japanese aloud to carry such big guns?" Light hearted joke, relate to your enemy in any way possible. "You got me, I part of this whole kidnapping incident. That means you'll have a lot of questions to ask." Admit you are wrong, they are right; gain their trust… But they're just standing there! "You won't shoot-!" Loud. Dark. Bright.

**Game Over. **

**Game Over… **

**Restart?**

* * *

"This is the only thing that can be done. If I don't do it-"

"And as for the suspect who was gunned down earlier, we are still unable to identify him. The police are tracking the current suspects…"

"Matt… I never thought you'd be killed… I'm sorry…" He's… Dead. So that's it…. The fool… Damn it, that fool! Why'd he have to go and get himself killed! Why… Are we in this mess in the first place?… Matt, why are we in this position? I really am sorry… It's because of me…

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**Begin Level 2? **


	2. Chapter 1

**Note To Reader: Thank you for reading the next chapter! This is where the story actually begins to reveal itself, if you have any question or have found any contradictions I have written myself into, I'd be more than happy to comment on or explain them, considering I believe this story to have such a strange concept... Well, I hope you enjoy! **

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"Dammit my head…" He groaned, eyes fluttering open behind orange lensed goggles.

"Welcome!" Chirped a blonde haired woman.

"Welcome? Welcome to what?" He growled.

"Welcome to your After World, home of your After-life!" She smiled, her flawless charm unappealing to him at the moment. "Now, your name sir? I must enroll your to our job, housing and feeding schedules."

"My name? Where the hell am I?!" He yelled in a panic, realizing his arms, legs and neck was under some sort of invisible restraint. "What IS this!?"

"Sir, please calm down. I'm sure you have several questions to ask, but they will all be explained in due time. Now your name, please." Charm level, 70%.

"My Name?" He looked around the sterile white room. It was small and not unlike an experimentation lab. Though he was fully clothed, he felt exposed and completely defenseless. 'My name… My name… What is my name?!… God my head is killing me!" He looked over at the woman who was now glaring back at him, strumming her fingers on the counter in front of a small, shiny laptop melodically. Charm level, 50%

"Yes. Sir. Your name." She rolled her eyes. Charm level, 30%.

"I don't know… But my head…" He groaned as the dull pain under a mess of hair began to increase and move towards his forehead.

"You don't know your name?" She asked, narrowing her eyes and looking at him as if he was growing an extra nose. "Sir, how did you die? Please just tell me, it would make this a whole lot simpler…" Charm level, 15%, and decreasing by the second… 14%, 13%…

"I don't know…" He admitted.

The once cheery woman huffed as she walked over to him, the clicking of her high heels echoing in the tiny space. She took his wrist and flipped it over. There she found a pattern of numbers. "3264002…"He eyes widened as she read the last few. "500…3… Jonathan…." She bit her lower lip as she walked back to the computer and typed in the number. "Y-Your… Strange… You don't have a last name… Matt." Her whole demeanor changed with in seconds; first cheery, then irritated, upset, now finally strictly business. Something was up. "You where shot to death… 27 times… Shot in the head once, though it missed your memories, so that's good, then… Ahh… Here it is. You fell, hitting your head on the back of your car… This must've given you amnesia. So at least it's temporary. You where pronounced dead carrying the clothing you have on now, half a pack of camel cigarettes, a red and black lighter, a black Nintendo DS Light, along with the games Pokémon Diamond, Super Mario 64 DS New Super Mario Bros and Final Fantasy IV. Wow, you were quite the gamer…" She said, her voice un-amused. "All these items remained on your person through the transformation, as did, obviously, your clothing."

"O-oh… Ok then… Wh-"

A low hum interrupted him as a nearby printer spat out a piece of paper. "Here's your schedule, this contains your new home and your job schedule for the next week, you will automatically be mailed a new one each week… And… Well seeing as you aren't crazy, I'll just turn this… off…" The woman's nails clicked on the keys of her computer and the dull pressure on Matt's arms, legs and neck instantaneously disappeared. She handed him his schedule and muttered to him as she brusquely left the room. Our administrator will be with you shortly…"

She left the room, the door slamming behind her. Matt scanned the bare room once more. 'I… died?' He thought, running his fingers through his thick russet hair. 'I don't remember it though… So did it really happen? Is this some kind of stupid dream?' Matt wracked his brain to remember something… Anything… Nothing. 'Ok, so what do I know… 'My name is… Matt? It sound like the obvious answer… But not the right one, though I feel as if I should answer to it… I'm… How old? Hell, I don't even know my own age…'

"Poor girl… She just realized her husband's number was replaced…" The door behind him opened as the woman entering the room spoke to an associate. She was an older looking woman, maybe in her mid-40's, she reminded mat of some sort of caring mother that should be placed on a daytime reality T.V show. "Hello Matt, I see Cindy has already provided you with your schedule…" She said, looking at the small packet in his hands. He raised it dully in response. "Excellent! My name is Niomi Weathers and I well be introducing you to your new life." He tone was not unlike that of a tour guide. "I'll begin by telling you our world here is similar, yet very different from what you're used to. For starters, instead of having an every day career, you will have a different job daily, starting immediately tomorrow. You will not receive a varying payment, but a steady $1,000 a month, you will not have rent or utility expenses on your house and you will receive a meal card which supplies you with 3 meals, of your choosing, a day. Any extra snacking foods, entertainment systems and items of luxury will come from your monthly pay. You will receive a vehicle, the one from your previous self, which in your case I believe is a 1968 Cherry red Comaro.

Everyone here speaks on language, Machellen, which is what we are speaking currently; this creates a simpler, and more enjoyable, environment for everyone. Our currency here is similar in appearance and value to the American dollar, again for easier communication. Everyone is given a number on the back of his or her wrist; the number is basically insignificant other than to identify you. As one person passes from this world to the next, their number is recycled and given to the next person to enter our world; their information replacing the last, and so on… Well, there is a lot more to it, but I do believe it would be simpler for the both of us if you ask me any questions you may have."

Matt's head whirled as he attempted to take in. Though information that was just fed to him was the only information he could remember, it seemed to be fighting for space in his brain against some sort of unreachable mass. He figured these to be his forgotten memories. One thing that she said stood out to him as odd. "Passing from one world to the next?… You mean like dying? Or… Like… Like a game? Leveling up?"

She offered a pleasant smile, "You could consider it either. How long you spend in this world depends on how you lived your life back on Earth. Since you died at a young age, you are simply continuing your life here and can expect to live up until around 60, give or take a few years depending on acts of kindness or criminal actions. After you 'die' here, you go onto the next, and final world. This is a world of complete ignorance. You begin to become unaware of everything around you, and, eventually, your own body. It's a completely painless transition and you slowly begin to deteriorate from existence, but this of course takes several decades after arriving at the world of universal bliss. We even have contact to them, but it's quite hard to keep up an intelligent conversation with them, depending on the amount of time they've been there."

Life. After-life. Bliss Life… This all seemed like some screwed up game to Matt. What was the purpose? Though thinking it to be ridiculous, he humored her and asked more questions. "So this world seems like its here just to make everyone happy, right? What about crimes? Robbery? Kidnapping?"

Again, she smiled sweetly at him. He didn't like it, she seemed too happy. "And that, my dear, is what makes it so wonderful here. We have no need for police officers or jails, because we have been lucky enough to have no criminals. There is no need. Drugs have no effect here, everyone is fed and paid, no one causes trouble, and we simply mind our own lives of entertainment."

'Damn, no crime. Man, Mello's going to hate this place… Mello? Who is that… He's a friend… He was head of a Mafia… He has a scar… He often dressed in drag… But I can't remember where or how I met him…' Matt pondered;" And everyone comes here?"

"Yes sir, every last person who dies on earth is transported directly here." She chimed.

'Something tells me he will be following me here shortly… Maybe he'll know more about me…' Matt sighed at his inner thoughts. "I… I think I've got it…"

"Great! See? It's not too different from Earth, just a few improvements here and there." She smiled, walking over to the laptop. "Now, I will send you to your house and you are free to continue on with your life! If you ever have any questions, simply call the number on your wrist. Someone will happily assist you. Well, I guess this is goodbye, Matt. It was nice meeting you! Have a nice life!" She said in a sing song-y voice, typed in a few things on her keyboard, and Matt was blinded by blackness.

**Introductory Level Complete….**

**Saving…**

**Saving… **

**Saving…**

**Complete. **


	3. Chapter 2

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**Level 2, Part 1: The New Life, Ready. **

Matt ran his fingers over the new king sized bed in his new bedroom. Everything was strangely prepared to suit his unique taste, it was almost as if they were given some sort of Matt manual. The walls of his room were a sturdy red brick, one wall covered in graffiti forming his name, the others simply old and crumbling in appearance, though it was obvious the appearance was deceiving. As for the floors, a solid jet-black tile stretched out to all the walls, tying the room together quite nicely. In a small closet, directly across from his black bed was a small closet containing everything he had once own on earth; several gaming t-shirts, ripped jeans, striped shirts and other random badass clothing. Matt had always wanted a room like this when he was a kid… 'My childhood… Why couldn't I have a room like this?… Right! I was an orphan… I lived at… Wammy's House. They never let anyone alter their rooms in anyway, and besides, my roommate would've never allowed it.

For the first time in his new life, a small smile began to work its way onto Matt's pale face. In the corner sat two solitary crates filled with multi-colored cans of spray paint. He used to enjoy the afternoons on earth after his lessons where complete roaming the streets with… Someone… He couldn't remember who, holding in his hands a single can of bright purple spray paint. He remembered enjoying the cold, refreshing feel of the can on his finger tips and the sweet music the sprays would make, varying depending on which nozzle he currently had on the can… Mello hated it. That's who was with him. He would complain and whine about how much the fumes would give him headaches or how he should be back at Wammy's studying in order to impress L… Bits and pieces of childhood memories flooded back. He remembered that he spent quite a bit of time with Mello, though he was moderately annoying and seemed to destroy all of his game systems for one reason or another, some intentional, some purely on accident. No one, besides Mello, had known about these outings, it was strictly forbidden of anyone from Wammy's to leave campus… Was this some weird coincidence?

After rummaging through a few things in his room, including an Xbox and box of about 10 games under a T.V, went through the rest of the house. It was a fair size for a single man, containing a bathroom, kitchen, dining room, living room and a bathroom. Everything was so neat, organized and _clean. _Matt was used to living in some run down shack or a different tattered apartment every weekend. A steady home was quite different. Making his way to the kitchen, which consisted of a refrigerator, dishwasher, sink, black and white marbled tabletops and a stove with a marble cook top. Matt rummaged through the pantry, which was fully stocked with food, but not just any food, _American _food. Though Matt is unsure of his true ethnicity, he had live in England all his life up until… Something happened… Then he moved to America for a brief period of time, then in Japan. Any normal person from England would despise the American cuisine and long for the food from their home country. Matt was different. He had loved the American foods since they seemed to provide him with slightly more alert and heightened senses. He found cases of Mountain Dew Code Red, Dr. Pepper and (the ironically named) Mello Yello, bags of Cool Ranch Doritos and Cheetoes, packages of Chip's Ahoy Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies, Oreos and Snack Pack Chocolate pudding, then finally found the largest stash of various candies he had ever seen in his life. This place was heaven.

**Ding. Dong. **

Matt tilted his head at the sudden sound. Something about this unsettled him; he instinctively wanted to pull a gun on whoever was at the door. Ignoring the urge, he walked over to the door and opened it. There stood a fairly short woman with short coal black hair and strikingly light blue eyes. She looked to be around Matt's age, seeing as she was wearing such a short purple plaid skirt and a bright blue halter-top accompanied with a fair amount of makeup. Even through his orange-lensed goggles, the bright striking colors hurt his eyes. She continued to gaze at him with an over dramatic smile on her face. "Hi, new neighbor!" She grinned, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. 'Uncomfortable. Unwanted.' He pushed her back with more force than expected. She tumbled backwards slightly but quickly caught her balance, still smiling. "Oh! I'm sorry; you're used to the old world. My bad!" She chirped. Matt took a step back, wiping off his tan vest with black leather gloved hands. "So sorry! I didn't know you were one of those germaphobe people! My mistake!"

"N-No it's not that it's just… Do I… Did I know you?" Matt stuttered, really not wanting to talk to this girl that looked as if she could shit rainbows at any moment.

"Well you do now! Silly! I'm your neighbor now! It's nice to meet you! I'm Lisa." She said, offering a hand, which Matt didn't even acknowledge.

"Jake." He replied, automatically giving a false name and looking past her getting his first glimpse at his new, outside world. Everything looked the same. Every house was painted a sterile white with a black roof.

"Ohh, Jake. Cool name! It suits you, a badass name for a badass looking guy and-" At that point, Matt had stopped listening. Everything was so clean and uniformed. It didn't seem right. He caught sight of a few other people, all of which wearing outfits similar to this Lisa chick. Slowly Matt began to feel out of place with his toned down blood red and black striped shirt and tan vest. Every lawn was emerald green, every hedge in front of every house cut back into a perfect square. Everything was so… weird… Yet it seemed to fit. It seemed to fit just enough that something in Matt's mind mad him refuse to question it.

"So, where are you working tomorrow?" Lisa's ceased jabbering brought Matt back to the present.

"Oh… Umm… I don't know yet…" Matt said.

Lisa looked at him and cocked her head. "Wow, what they say is really true… Newbies are downers…" Her perkiness seemed to vanish for a millisecond, and then returned full force. "Well that's ok! You'll brighten up and I'm sure you'll be a great person! Well, Jake, It was nice meeting you!" She seemed like she wanted to give him another hug, then thought the better of it and gave him a simple wave instead and pranced, yes pranced, back to her uniformly perfect home.

* * *

'This place is off…' Matt thought to himself, but it only seemed whisper that became quieter by the minute for some unknown reason. 'This is your home. You belong here. Welcome to your life.' Positive thoughts forcefully pumped themselves into his brain. His dreams were replaced with thoughts, and his thoughts replaced with positive phrases of the new world. He knew this would usually be unsettling to himself, seeing as he was usually such a sarcastically pessimistic person, but something push that away. Being in this new world… Does that mean he's a new person? Does this give him new personalities? New desires; new feelings and interests?

Matt looked back at the happy looking electric type pokemon on his screen. **You Got Pikachu! **'Nope.' He thought, pressing the refuse to nickname button on the game system.

* * *

"Hello, welcome to Queen's Burgers. How may I take your order?" Day 1 of work, a fast food restaurant. Usually anyone would think this to be an unruly job filled with a day of upset screaming customers and belching truck drives, but to Matt's surprise, everyone was fairly nice about everything. Everyone spoke clearly, no accent, no attitude and most people even tipped. Though despite the friendly behavior, something still seemed off… People were too happy. Matt about freaked when he didn't hear at least ten profanities in an hour. Its seemed unnaturally controlled. Everything seemed in order, though to Matt, nothing seemed right.

The training Matt received before starting work was next to nothing. There was simply a small instruction pamphlet, which looked, as it should, old, worn and torn, on the front counter. One of the five new daily workers read the pamphlet out loud, and everyone understood their job, even Matt. Not that it was rocket science or anything, but it just seemed odd… What if something went wrong? What if there was a fire? Or, more likely, a robbery? Oh right… No Crime…

The whole job schedule seemed fairly logical. Upon first arriving here, you are given the easy jobs, such as fast food restaurants and gas stations. You then move up the line into better paying jobs depending on your performance, which here, anyone was rarely demoted. The 'different job everyday' deal was created so no one became bored with his or her one job. It also ensured everyone lived their life as full as they possibly could.

At exactly 12, Queen's Burgers was slammed. Dozens of people flooded in the doors, chit chatting happily to their fellow co-workers of the day. 12 o' clock must be the worldwide lunchtime. Matt strategically took orders, one by one, as if he had had this very job for years. Three hours into his 9 hour job, he had now memorized the entire cash register to the point were he began entering in orders with his eyes closed. Now, four hours in, he became familiar with the unique sounds each button gave when pressed. Right upon discovering this new skill, the crowd was disrupted by some harsh-toned costumer. Seeing as everyone was willing to wait, Matt beaconed to the costumer, who he could only see the top of the man's fairly blonde hair.

"Sir, I can take your order here, just make your way to the front and-…" Matt stopped as he faced the rude costume, which was already making his way to the front.

The man brought on a vibe of pure hatred and disgust for everything. From head to toe, the man was dressed in nothing but skin-tight black leather pants and a vest that contorted itself around every curve of the man's body, some might even say he was dressed in drag. He sported a nasty scar over his left blue eye, which was obviously from nothing else, but a burn. He peered at everyone on his side of the counter with a look full of hatred and loathing. This was Mello.


	4. Chapter 3

Matt stared at the brutish blonde as he surveyed the room, not taking the time to even look in Matt's direction. He crossed his arms and finally looked up to the menu, just above Matt's goggled head. His lip began to curl in disgust as he browsed over the different varieties of greasy burgers and fries. "Do you sell anything with chocolate in this damn place?" He said, pale blue eyes begin to search the dessert menu.

"Sure do, jackass." Matt joked, the curse word feeling uncharacteristically outlandish to his tongue. Mello's eyes quickly turned hostile, as if someone had just threatened to harm him in some form or fashion, that is until he saw who had given him such an insult. His eyes softened and widened, but only for a second, then quickly retreated to their original, un-amused state.

"What the hell_ are _you doing?" Mello said, curiosity under toning his voice.

"I… I guess I work here today." Matt shrugged.

"No, really."

"…."

Mello bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from loosing his composure. "Alright, Burger King, when do you 'get off work'?"

Matt grimaced. Yeah. This was Mello, for sure. "You're an asshole." He muttered, and again, the bitterness in his tone, and even his mood, felt out of place… Somehow unwanted.

Mello rolled his eyes. "True this may be, but I am the only person here that you know, correct?"

"Uhm… Yes?" He shrugged, at least the only one he could remember.

"There something… Different…" Mello paused, one eye squinted, the other blue orb searching through Matt's goggles, and then he straightened up. "I don't trust you."

"What the f- You don't trust me?!" Matt said, baffled. "You're my best friend since… Ever! Your Me-"

"NO." Mello cut in, his gaze now hostile once more. "Your not Matt, or at least not all of him anyways."

"But Mel-" Matt started.

"Damn it, stop!" He growled, then his attention was caught somewhere else. "Look. I don't know if you're who I think you are… But just in case…" Mello took a napkin and some discarded pen on the counter and scribbled a few words on it. "You're the only lead I have. Mello said, taking in one last glance over of Matt, then turning and walking out the door.

"Take Care!" Called a customer as he left.

"Have a nice day!"

Mello's only response was a simple finger.

**Meet me here at 8 P.M tonight.**

**Don't bring anyone. Don't tell anyone why you're here.**

**Don't tell anyone _why _you're here.**

**If you're who I believe you to be, you'll know what is mandatory. **

**Don't be late.**

**P.S Burn this with your lighter after you read this. **

* * *

"The crap?" Matt muttered. Mandatory? What the hell does he mean 'you'll know what is mandatory'? Who did this guy think he was? Freakin' physic? 'Oh well… I get off at 7:30 anyways… Maybe me being there is mandatory?

Matt continued cleaning the counters, the stout aroma of bleach and surface washer filled the air. He looked at the clock, 7:20… Damn… He was done already. Matt unsuccessfully looked around for something to occupy himself with over the next 40 minutes. His stomach growled as he walked out the front doors of Queen Burger, careful to turn off all the lights upon exit, 'guess I'll get something to eat…' he shrugged.

"That'll be $2.65." The man at the counter said happily.

'Shit… forgot I don't have money…' Matt thought, 'alright, wing it. Everyone's nice here right? Maybe… Just maybe…' Matt drew out the most charming smile he could scrap up at the time. "Hey… So you see, the thing is-" upon reaching into his pockets like Matt generally did when he was nervous or unsure about something, he felt the papery cotton and cool metal against his fingers. He pulled out said items, $3.75 to be exact, and almost laughed to himself. 'I guess I had money when I died…' He handed the money to the cashier, who graciously accepted it, and went on his way. He looked at his newly earned snacks, a chocolate bar and a bottle of Code Red Mountain Dew, and had an over whelming sense of déjà vu. It was almost as if he made a purchase, similar to this, several times. Daily even, like a routine. Shrugging off the feeling, as he had done several times before in this new world, he reached Queen Burger once more.

**7:55 P.M**

Matt leaned against a brick wall under a newly lit streetlight, the supposed Mello nowhere in sight. He slid his most prized possession, a shiny black Nintendo D.S lite out of his pocket and began playing, 10 minutes or even an hour could've easily passed before Matt got to a certain, satisfying saving point and looked around at the few objects the streetlight and his goggles allowed him to see. 'Where the hell is he?' Matt thought with a sigh, opening up his carbonated drink. Just as the cool cherry liquid met with his tongue, a low rumble mad itself heard far before the source of the noise was visible. A shiny, midnight black sports bike wheeled in front of Matt, the rider looking at him through a helmet with a tented face visor. Without removing his gaze from Matt, he killed the bike and dismounted it. His straight posture, revealing his never failing confidence, and his cat-like, yet not quite feminine movements felt proverbial to Matt as he watched the man. This had to be Mello or at least someone who new him very well. Matt had never met anyone in his life that had an aurora so confident of one and manipulatively determined as Mello's. He'd never, EVER, seen a man carry himself in a manner that made him seem threatening yet well liked in the same instance. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head, shielding the world from his full identity through his hair, though he could see everyone else, not unlike a one-sided window.

The biker dismounted his bike and removed his visored helmet, allowing silky uneven curtains of blonde hair to barely meet his shoulders flawlessly. His lethal icy eyes, flickering from the bag in Matt's hand and the redhead himself, pierced through Matt's orange-lensed goggles, giving him an overwhelming uneasy feeling. He took a single gloved hand and snatched the plastic bag which gave out a hiss, eagerly looking inside as it he were some sort of drug addict looking for his next hit. A hint of happiness flickered across his face, but only for a second; Matt wasn't even positive he hadn't imagined the emotion. Within seconds, Mello had undressed the chocolate and had taken a nice healthy bite out of it, a mock satisfaction drenching his face.

"Alright, _Jake." _Mello hissed in a way only Mello could, only further proving his identity. "What do you say we go to your place and catch up? I'll follow you." His tone silently inferred that his previous request was, in fact, a command, and if he tried to protest he'd probably get nothing less than a bullet in the ass. Matt shrugged, knowing he had nothing to do.

* * *

The drive home for Matt was uneventful, he hardly had any trouble finding his new home in the dark, but then again he had always been good with directions. He hadn't been 3rd in Wammy's house for nothing… Wammy's House… Just the thought of his old orphanage seemed to punch Matt in the gut with a devastating sinking feeling.

Upon arriving Matt's home, Mello had proved himself in Matt's eyes. Mello had walked in, his shoulders slightly drooped and head held high, a sign of his old friend's confidence, and if that wasn't enough, he proceeded to Matt's couch and lounged there, sprawled out succeeding in taking up as much space and his slender body could. Matt remembered linking such behavior to Mello's lack of attention at their orphanage, and in response, Mello became quickly possessive over as much of anything, even space, as he was capable of.

"Ok." Mello said simply, finishing off his last few bits of chocolate and scanning the room strategically. "Congratulations. Your Matt."

"Mhmm…" Matt had already positioned himself in the small corner of the couch that Mello was unable to reach in his upright sitting position.

"Where the hell are we?" Mello pondered aloud.

"Dunno. Heaven?" Matt muttered, mostly emerged in his game, though subconsciously he was wondering the same thing.

"Bull Shit. Like we'd go to heaven." Mello sighed, analyzing his rosary blankly.

Matt paused his game and looked at Mello. "Why not?"

Mello looked at him, a bewildered expression on his face. "What do you mean 'why the hell not?' Matt, I was head of the God damned Mafia."

"Oh. Right." Matt mumbled, extending his slightly cramped fingers under his leather gloves, memories of the brutalities the two of them had inflicted upon people for information. Memories began to flow freer now, so Matt decided to take a chance, he knew the answer to this question already, but he wanted to hear the response from someone who was probably there. "Mello… How did I die?"

Mello stiffened slightly, but his facial expressions portrayed nothing. "You were… You were shot down by security… It was a mistake…"

"But it still happened." Matt remembered now. It was Mello who had told him to piss off security, that way it was easier for Mello to get away with his hostage. This unsettled Matt.

"Damn it, Matt. That's the past. That's what happened. Why the hell do you not remember your death? I remember mine just fine, along with everything else. And besides, its not like I was trying to leave you or anything.

No. Not that time. But he had. The final piece of the puzzle was there. Matt had his memory completely restored, though his finally memory hit him like a ton of bricks. Flashing images of a crying kid in the shower, arms leaking blood raced through his mind. Feelings of hate, rage, emptiness and loneliness ate at the pits of his stomach. Matt looked over at Mello, teeth clenched. He had just gotten over what Mello had done to him, just forgiven him and agreed to help him with ONE last case, the case that would finally push him over Near… The case that also got him killed. Matt clenched his fists, stood up from the couch dramatically and walked towards the door. "What the f-?!" Mello yelled through a mouthfull of chocolate after him as Matt slammed the door and walked towards his car.


	5. Chapter 4

Matt peeled out of the parking lot as fast as his tires would take him and zoomed down the street. He didn't want to see Mello, or himself for that matter. Warm liquid began to fill Matt's goggles involuntarily as his fresh, old memories saturated and relieved themselves in his Sequence Loading…

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**Complete. **

**5 ½ Years Earlier… **

Mello shoved a pile of oversized books onto the mahogany desk with an exaggerated thud; Matt jumped, coming back to the world from his false reality handheld. "Geez, Mello. You gotta do that every time?" He mumbled, trying to settle into his game again. Mello had been really crazed with studying lately, sure he was always studying, competing with Near, but recently, it almost seemed as if it was an addiction. For the past week, during the very few five-minute breaks he allowed himself, Mello gave off a vibe of uneasiness; but then again, he was Mello. Nothing he ever did could be predicted; quite the contrary, really.

"I feel like I'm going to need this soon." Mello uttered, fingering the words on the pages of the old, dusty books from the ungodly depths of the endless library. Matt froze. Just like Mello was unpredictable, Mello himself had several predictions, though not always clear, they almost always happened. Matt recalled several accounts on which Mello had an uneasy feeling about something, and sure enough, later that day, he or Matt would break an arm, or get into trouble. It had happened so often Matt stopped calling it a coincidence and started calling it Mello's visions.

"What do you mean? Our test isn't until three months from now, and plus that isn't the last one, it's just adjusting the rankings if need be for the year." Matt commented, saving his game and giving his full attention to the blonde.

"Dunno… You ever get the feeling your not going to stay here for long?" Mello asked, looking at Matt, head cocked.

"Well, there's always the fact that we're going to die at some point, and people say life is short, if that's what you mean." Matt shrugged. "If you ask me, I'd say it's the longest thing I'll ever know," he continued light-heartedly, not really wanting to go down this road with his friend at the young age of 13.

"No… It's not that… It's just… I don't know." Mello huffed and slammed the books, earning an annoyed shush from other concentrated students. "I'm done." He had always changed topics on a dime. "Let's go, Matt."

Mello had always been an indecisive child, easily distracted from one thing to another, it was really a wonder no one had tested him for ADD. Though he may be distracted, once he had his mind fully made up on something, he was committed 150%, like when he accepted the challenge of becoming successor. Since the day he learned he was eligible to become a successor candidate, he had clawed his way to the top, or close to it at least; tied to be exact. He also didn't like sharing, creating his instant hatred towards Near. The two of them had never really seen eye to eye anyways, they would almost daily get into pointless fights, most of which Mello started. Most ended with Near making such a blunt accusation of Mello's temper that Mello finally lost it an destroyed random items on his way back to his room, often dragging Matt behind him for venting, which consisted of Mello screaming random profanities about the white-haired boy and screaming into his pillow, only for Matt to offer useless comforting words.

"So… Well I'm out of ideas. What do you want to do?" Mello shrugged. Matt did a double take to ensure it was the blonde haired boy that had just granted them the opportunity to decide what they could do for the rest of the day. This was a rare occasion simply because Mello had closed the books for the evening during one of his study highs, and now he was asking MATT what he wanted to do? Hell must really be freezing over at the moment.

"Um… Well it's almost dinner, so it's not like we can do anything too time consuming…" Matt thought aloud, trying to by himself time to decide on a pass time, and then it hit him. "Wanna go back to my room and play that new PlayStation game you like? Need for Speed?" Matt grinned, just a week ago, he had gotten the new PlayStation along with 3 games installed in his room, it was a birthday gift from the staff, since they saw how much he enjoyed his Game Boy Color. (The top 5 successor candidates generally got such extravagant gifts on their birthdays versus the usual night of no homework for the rest of the students. Fair, no, but this place wasn't exactly about fairness.) To Matt's utter delight, he had been able to spark an interest of video games in Mello when he watched Matt play the racing game. He had been entranced by the variety of sports cars and bikes there were, and that you could actually _drive _them, under age, in a virtual reality.

Mello contemplated they idea for a moment. "Alright, sure. You go get the game set up and I'll go snag us a few sodas from the kitchen," he replied, turning on the balls of his feet, not waiting for Matt's answer. Matt grinned toothily to himself, as said before, it was rare to catch Mello in such a careless mood, and now he had gotten him to agree to play video games with him? Nothing could ruin Matt's mood.

Out of nowhere, Matt walked face first into a white shirted chest. Matt looked up to see a rather unhappy Dark, at 17 he was one of the oldest children in the residence, and if you ask Matt, one of the stupidest. Dark was nothing short of a playground bully that seemed to thrive on nothing but picking on younger, usually smarter, kids, and Matt was no exception. As a matter of fact, Matt was usually his main target, seeing as he received special attention from Wammy's Houses' staff. Matt hadn't actually been picked on as much, seeing as he was usually with Mello, who generally stuck up for him, but now Mello was off across the house, getting drinks and nowhere in sight. Matt was a sitting duck.

"Heard you got a game system, goggles. Must be nice." Dark hissed, resentment dripping in his voice.

"Mhmm…" Matt mumbled, desperately seeking an escape route, but to his dismay, he failed in seeking one out.

"You should probably share, you know?" Dark's warm breath wisped a cloud of stink over Matt's face as he got closer.

"O-ok. Sure. Anytime." Matt nodded, attempting to walk around Dark's massive form, only to be pinned against the wall by his hair.

"Where the hell do you think your going?" Dark sneered, kneeing Matt in the gut, earning a sickly choking sound. Dark chuckled. "Hehe…Do that again," Dark kneeing him once more, this time harder, Matt squeaked as he doubled over, wheezing, while still being held captive by his russet colored hair. Dark chortled throatily just before he threw Matt on the ground with such a force that kept him there, unwilling to get up. Dark kneeled next to him. "It's not fair you know…" He sighed, bringing Matt a foot of the floor by the collar of his shirt. "You get to strut everywhere, knowing you'll get whatever you want while the rest of us work our ass off…" Dark threw him into a nearby decoration table covered in seasonal items such as Styrofoam pumpkins and miniature scarecrows.

Darks lip was beginning to curl as he made yet another advance on Matt before he could get up when an unopened soda can whizzed down the hall from behind Dark and hit him in the back of the head. Dark's fists curled into tight balls as he turned to see who his attacker was. Mello stood there, a dangerous smirk on his face. Before he could blink, Mello and Dark when in the middle of a full out brawl, if you could call it that considering Mello didn't have a scratch yet. As a final blow, Mello jumped up high enough for his fist to come into contact with the back of Dark's head, propelling it forward forcefully into Mello's foot as he perfectly executed a powerful round house kick. Dark caught himself against the wall just before he hit the ground and glared accusingly at Mello. Mello continued to stare daggers as Dark snorted and walked away, and then he turned to his redheaded friend.

"You alright?" Mello asked, offering Matt a helping hand, which he took. It took a great effort to simply stand, so Mello threw one of Matt's arms around his own shoulder to offer support.

"I think…" Matt wheezed as they walked into his room only a few doors down. Mello helped Matt onto the bed as Matt lifted his shirt revealing already formed bruises and whelps. Mello sucked in a breath noisily as he saw his friend's wounds. Matt laughed a little, wincing all the while. "Thanks. Would've been worse if it hadn't been for you."

Mello shrugged. "Yeah, they'd probably be scrapping your dead body off the floor right now, if I wasn't here." He smirked, earning his a pillow to the face.

Matt slowly, but surely inched off his bed and started up the game, handing the second controller to his best friend. Matt couldn't think of what a life without Mello could possible be like.

After two games of Matt winning by a long shot and one of Matt allowing the blonde to win, they were called to the dining hall for diner. Diner was fairly normal, Matt ate in-between battles on his Game Boy, and Mello continuously picked at his food, eating a bite here and there among strings of complaints; the only difference detected in this meal was when Roger hurried over to Mello insisting to speak to him after dinner. This was unlike Roger; generally he would send a staff member to summon a student to his office, and not to mention he had a panicked look in his eye. At the time Matt shook it off, assuming it had something to do with the brawl he and Dark had earlier. This was one thing Matt regretted that he over looked. Mello nodded in agreement, unstirred by Roger's uneasiness as well, and continued to pick at his food.

After dinner, Matt and Mello parted their ways, agreeing on a fourth round of Need for Speed. Matt walked up to his room, set up the game, and waited. Thirty minutes turned into an hour, which slowly but surly turned into another hour. It had been three lengthy hours before Matt slid off his comforter to search for Mello.

He first checked the blonde's room, to find it in ruins. The drapes over his window were in shreds, drawers from his wooden dresser when now in splinters across the destroyed room, clothes were splayed across the room and Mello's rosary, his prized possession, now missing from its usual place on a nail over his bed. "Mello?" Matt called, not expecting an answer. Matt sighed inwardly. Dark probably gathers some of his friend to destroy the room as retaliation. But where was Mello?

Exiting the room, Matt continued down the hall towards Roger's office. Upon entering, he found Near on the ground, strategically piecing a puzzle together and Roger with his head in his large, aged hands. "Dr. Roger?" Roger looked up quickly, and once his eyes laid on Matt's face, his expression was overwhelmed with pity; all the while Near looked un-phased on the ground as usual. "Dr. Roger…" Matt started again, unsure of what was going on. "Have you seen Mello? He sai-"

"Mello's gone, Matt." Roger said, not meeting the boy's eyes. Matt froze, an uneasy feeling pricking and prodding his insides.

"Where did he-"

"I don't know. I have the whole staff looking for him now. But he was set on leaving."

Understanding punched Matt in the face. Once Mello was set on something, there was no turning back; he would do whatever it was regardless and unfortunately had enough brains to pull it off successfully every time.

"Mello was upset upon hearing of L's untimely demise and the fact that he had chosen neither I nor he to take his place put Mello under automatic distress." Near's words were cold and robotic as he spoke them. The news of L's death shook Matt, but he pushed that out of his head.

"Did- Did he say were he was going? Or when he would be back?" Matt tried, already knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry Matt. He didn't say anything of the sort. I'm afraid Mello has full intentions of leaving Wammy's House for good. I really am sorry Matt, I know you and Mello were great fr-"

"Oh." Was all Matt could muster up before turning and leaving the room, to find Dark there waiting for him with a callous grin on his face.

"What's wrong? Your boyfriend leave you?" He purred, making no attempt to stop Matt, who kept walking. "I saw him walking down the halls an hour ago, muttering how much he hated this place, and everyone it it… Oh, tough break for you though, huh? Guess he wasn't your friend after all." Something in Matt snapped. Instantaneously, Matt smashed a nearby glass vase on the ground, grabbed the biggest, sharpest piece he could find and tackled Dark, full force.

"You've messed with me for the last time…" Matt spat as he straddled Dark, tears running down his face. Matt let the glace gently graze Dark's neck as he tried to decide wither to make a killing blow. Finally, Matt took the piece and plunged into Darks shoulder as deeply as possible; Dark screamed in pain and Matt ran. Almost performing on pure instinct, he went straight to his room and fumbled around with his nightstand drawer, pulling out a small pocketknife. Desperate minded, Matt figured the only way to get rid of the main in his chest was to create it somewhere else. He un-hooked the blade and drug it across his wrist slowly and horizontally. He felt nothing. He began to cut more frantically, but still nothing. He approached the matter a different way and began to slide the knife up and down vertically, and within seconds, his vision began to blur. Something was working, his pain was becoming surreal and dull. His hand armed with the knife began to grow weak and he felt the weapon roll out of his hand. Why would Mello leave? Matt stood and stumbled to the door, leaning against the frame. He must hate me… Matt howled in agony as he desperately tried to reach the bathroom, he heard shrieks around him as he passed other students in the halls. So much blood. SO much blood. Gotta get it off… Matt thought, his brain slower than slugs. Mello did this. Matt reached the shower and turned it on and got in, fully clothed. Mello hates me. Everyone hates me. Why? Mello's fault… Nothing made sense anymore as Matt passed out.

Weeks later, Matt recovered physically, but never mentally. It was almost as if he were a mere ghost wandering the halls of Wammy's house. Dark never messed with him again. Matt made no attempt to make any new friends, and seeing that Mello had been his ONLY friend before, he was virtually alone. Matt went missing from Wammy's House two years later, and Roger hardly put up an attempt to find him, he figured that the boy would do what he wanted and would be happier anywhere but and Wammy's, he simply and silently wished that he was alive and well somewhere.

Matt became a programer and ruthless hacker, using his brains and excess rage and confusion to make decent money in the job, that is, until he received a certain disoriented call.


	6. Chapter 5

Error note: So after basically writing this whole chapter, I revisited the chapter before this and realized I mad the mistake of saying Matt became a hitman… Well he didn't he became something else. Just forget the whole hit man thing and this chapter will explain the rest.

The shiny red Camaro screeched to a halt, its tail end pulling a full 270. All signs of life on the streets seemed nonexistent in the new world at 8:30, leaving Matt alone in his car, partially illuminated by the orange tented streetlight. Mouth shut so tightly his teeth seemed as if they were welded, he unhinged his leather-laden hands from his steering wheel and ran his fingers through his sweat-matted hair.

His mind whirled as it fought itself. One side spat the blonde's name as if it were the very definition of filth to the tongue. The other thought of all the help he had from the help he had received, however discrete, over the years. He remembered vaguely his first day at Wammy's house. Everyone had found contentment in making fun of his strange habits of wearing dark lensed goggles indoors. Their lighthearted jokes soon developed into full out jealousy as he quickly ascended up the successor scale with little to no effort at all. Matt's studying and learning techniques consisted of roughly a page of notes taken during class, studying over them, silently and unblinking, for about five minutes after class then proceeding to seclude himself in his room with his game boy for the rest of the day, not so much as looking at another book.

Matt never had trouble learning new things; nothing ever seemed new at all, but rather simply a reminder of something he had forgotten from a past life. Everything bored Matt and every waking moment seemed as if it were déjà vu, which was why he exhausted his time with alternate ending video games (though eventually he was able to pick up on a games ending before reaching it). His life seemed like a giant repeat until he met Mello.

Mello had arrived at Wammy's house the same time Matt had been inducted. Mello was a harsh child, bullying and belittling other residents as he went on with his day, which was part of why Matt kept his distance from the temperamental blonde, that, and Matt often lost his deductibility around him. Weeks after the two arrived, Mello became well aware of the red head's constant and consistent ascent.

"How do you do that?" Mello finally questioned him one day, startling Matt at lunch when he slammed his spread out fingers on the cafeteria table.

Matt jumped at the abrupt noise and peered over his game at Mello, who wore a certain look of superiority. "Do what?" He muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.

Mello rolled his eyes. "Your smart and you don't do shit. How do you do it?"

Matt sighed airily and returned to his game. "Dunno." He replied, sure to make it apparent that he was done talking.

"Don't be stupid." Mello pressed, determined to hammer out answers. "Your almost as successful as _Near_. How?"

"'Suppose I'm smart…" Matt shrugged, eyes still glued to the screen of his handheld.

"No shit, Sherlock." Mello almost growled. "Tell me how you do it. Do you cheat?"

"Why would I need to cheat?" he mumbled, halfheartedly following the conversation. His words bit at Mello's already close to nonexistent nerves.

Mello fumed, his eyes bugging so far out of his skull it looked as if they could fall out and bounce of the floor at any moment. In one movement, Mello smacked the game system to the floor where it hit with a loud clatter. Matt looked up, befuddled, expecting Mello to apologize for losing his temper, but his gaze was al cold as ever. "Tell me. _NOW."_ His voice somehow seemed to growl and purr at the same time. Matt looked at him, now fully attentive to the conversation at hand.

"I-I don't know." He replied more convincingly. "I just do… I just… I just _get _it."  
Mello looked at him for a second, his temper already back to a reasonable state. "How can you not know how you think?" Mello mused for a second. Matt shrugged, stooping to get his game, but careful not to play it in the other boy's presence. "I guess I'll just have to decode you myself…"

That's how it all began. Day after day, Mello all but followed him into the showers, studying his every move and habit. Matt only opposed the idea for a week or so, but it wasn't like he voiced his opinion. After awhile, Matt became accustom to having someone sitting close next to him, maybe sometimes too close, as he played his games. It was also thanks to Mello that Matt finally began to peak his head out of his subconscious turtle shell he had housed himself in over the years. As a matter of fact, Matt had become quite social. There were a number of occasions where Matt was able to smooth talk his way out of several situations.

Matt pressed his forehead to the steering wheel. Social skills weren't the only thing Matt had to thank Mello for, he chuckled to himself as he remembered the first time he had heard from Mello since he had mysteriously disappeared from Wammy's house.

His first remembered though was a bit hazy, seeing as he was drunk off his ass. He had left Wammy's house two years after Mello had left, giving up his dream to succeed L, and resulted to computer programming as a living. Programming quickly became boring and seemed like child's play, resulting in his upgrading in search of a challenge. Soon he was hacking into online gaming sites and school systems to change desperate parents' children's grades. Seeing as this hacking was quite simple, he then again moved on to crashing and hacking major business sights just for fun, until he chose to mess with the wrong crowd.

Trying to impress some women, Matt had made a bet that he could hack into the database of a Mafia. So he did. He slurred as he moused through all the victims and soon to be victims in the file and soon became bored with it and closed the window, forgetting to remove all the fingerprints he may have left in the file. Needless to say, a night later, Matt was bound, gagged, blindfolded and thrown into the back of a mysterious black pickup. After a good 40-minute ride, he was drug by his ankles into a chair, bound to it, the un-blindfolded to meet a pair of familiar icy blue eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Matt sighed as he looked at his kidnaper's attire. The blonde's entire outfit was solid black leather, an iron cross on his belt and a rosary around his neck. With form fitting leather pants; he also wore a black vest, only reaching just above his navel, over the obscene outfit was a black leather trench coat complete with ridiculously gaudy feather collar. Mello's initial reaction was a throaty laugh as his followers simply looked at him in shock, surprised he wasn't beating the shit out of this kid. Finally wiping away tears of mirth he regained composure he looked at his former best friend, walked around him a few times clicking his tongue a few times the looked at Matt dead on through his goggles, almost nose to nose.

"Got yourself in a bind, huh Matty?" He said, laughter still in his voice. "When I heard someone hacked into my system, well, I assumed it would be some fat, ugly nerd living in his mother's basement, passing his time through hacking shit… Thought I'd teach him a lesson…" Mello sighed, now talking to himself then turned to Matt. "How wrong I was… Yet I'm not surprised it was you. I deem you smart enough for cracking my system at least." He smiled, genuinely friendly. "How you been?" Mello signaled for his men to untie the red head, and they complied.

Stretching out his sore arms from being tied, he looked at Mello, his eyes nothing less than hostile. "I almost died you know." Matt hissed.

Mello looked shocked, then turned to his men, who were twice his size. "What the hell did you do to him?!" He growled, taking a step towards them as they shrank back towards the walls, true fear in their eyes.

"The day you left." Matt continued. "I tried killing myself. Someone told me you had stormed off, screaming you hated the place."

"Dark…" Mello said, just above a whisper. "Matt, I-"

"Yeah, it wasn't like losing the only person I considered a friend, the only thing I ever really cared about would matter to me. You left me." Matt yelled, fist shaking at his sides, he knew he had told Mello more than he really wanted to, but he had to get his point across. Mello just looked at him.

"Matt, I'm sor-" Mello stuttered, but Matt was already making his way out of the room.

It was only a few months later before Matt heard from Mello. The call only consisted of a few words before the phone on the other side cut out. "Explosion… Place I took you… Please don't leave me-" The phone clicked, but Matt had already gotten the message. Against his anger and rage, Matt hopped in his car and drove to the place Mello's men had taken him that one night, to find it in utter ruins. The place looked as if sever bombs had exploded in various regions. Smoked threatened to suffocate Matt as he sifted through soot, burning wood and charred bodies. Just before Matt was prone to give up, he found an unconscious Mello under a fallen wooden pillar, a halfway melted cell phone in his partially gloved hand. Matt pried his body out from under the limp lumber and slumped Mello's unmoving body into the passenger's seat of his car.

Remembering how he had saved his friend, Matt had already turned the car around and headed back to his new home. His hands gripped the wheel tighter and tighter as he approached the too-perfect lawn. He got out and slammed his door. He wanted to insure Mello knew he was still pissed. Upon walking into the house, Matt was slightly shocked to see all the lights in the house turned off.

"Mello?" He called, irritation in his voice. He walked through the door. "Mel-" He was caught off guard by a suspended frying pan hitting him upside the head, knocking him unconscious.


	7. Chapter 6

Error Note… Again, sorry: I meant to say; Matt was a programmer, but an assassin as well. He looked at as more of a hobby, an outlet for his anger, though he did get paid nicely. Also, I was reading over past chapters and am thoroughly embarrassed by how careless I have been with typos. From now on, I promise to proof read a few times before submitting any final product.

"Stupid bastard…" Mello growled through his teeth as he hoisted Matt's motionless body into a light mahogany chair. "Why do I even fucking bother with you…" He hissed, though knowing the answer. Matt is the only one he could trust; the only person who could tell Mello the sky was green and he'd believe it 100%. Mello head stepped on a lot of toes and burnt a lot of bridges with a lot of dangerous people. Thankfully Matt's bridge wasn't burnt beyond oblivion. He owed a lot to Matt, and Matt wasn't completely useless either. Mello hated to admit it, but Matt has the skills of a god-damned ninja and could hack a top security corporate computer in china from the Wammy House computer lab in a matter if minutes at age 12. The guys' a freaking genius, but has next to no motivation, which comes as a plus for Mello.

But was all this, everything that Mello owes to Matt, going to stop Mello from tying him to this dining room chair?

Hell no.

Mello tied Matt's hands, low, behind him with three different ropes and knots and tied each leg to the front legs of the chair.

* * *

Matt groaned as the pain in his neck and forehead became strikingly defiant. He blinked a few times before his vision was semi-coherent behind his goggles. As he became more and more aware of his surroundings, he became more confused, that is, until he met Mello's feline-like stare from the couch. It was obvious the blonde had been sitting there, waiting patiently for the redhead to regain consciousness. His leather-laden body, feminine curves and all, stretched the length of the couch in front of Matt. Mello's head was perched on a propped up elbow, leather gloved hand on one arm of the couch, and feet and ankles hanging carelessly over the other. Over all, Matt found it to be quite a seductive pose, considering the two of them sort-of, kind-of, not really had an unspoken attraction to each other, but all optimism fled from Matt's mind like a mouse from a hungry cat the moment his eyes met Mello's once more. Immediately, Matt felt more like a scolded puppy than a man imprisoned by his best friend in a chair. Matt had pissed Mello off, and he would pay for it… Oh, god how he would pay… Matt cringed at the thought. Mello waited a few seconds before he spoke to ensure his audience was fully attentive.

Slowly, but surely, Mello sat up from his lounging position on the couch to sit up right, his eyes perfectly parallel with Matt's goggles. Mello raised an eyebrow as Matt gave him a merciful look. "Ok. So. You know that was stupid right?" Matt nodded so vigorously Mello was sure he could hear his head rattle. This was the same man who had shot him in the foot for picking up the wrong chocolate bar, who chunked a full set of dresser drawers at his head when Near scored a 100% and he a 99%. The same guy who had the guts to not once, not twice, but DAILY let out streams of cuss words aimed at his teachers at age 5. The same guy who made an entire MAFIA basically kissing the ground he walked on. Sure, Matt could get out of a measly knot binding his wrists, he had an I.Q of 213 for Pete's sake, but even far after he had taken apart the paperclip bracelet on his wrist and strategically cut the rope imprisoning his hands thread by thread, he didn't do it to be free. He just did it because his wrists hurt.

"You know I don't like you doing these things, Matt. It's aggravating, to say the least, but I need to know I can trust you. Now explain to me. Why the _fuck_ did you leave?" He said nonchalantly.

Matt sighed, explaining his life from death to present. "I guess you just filled in the pieces of missing memory…" He finished lamely.

"Well obviously you forgive me, or whatever. You came back." Mello stated.

Matt shrugged. "Never was much of one for holding grudges. Guess that doesn't change even in the afterlife."

* * *

"Oh, poo…" Matt sighed as the words "**You Lose**" flashed across his DS. Mello looked at him with a disgusted look.

"Oh…. Poo?" The blonde spat distastefully. "Since when does the master of 'F' bombs randomly change his favorite profanity to 'poo'." Matt shrugged, un-phased and restarted his game. The two had been sitting on the couch for hours, Mello pondering and unraveling the new world through the strangely programmed television shows and Matt engaged in a valiant battle to be the very best Pokémon trainer there ever was. This childish curse word incident wasn't the first of Matt's strange behaviors. The red flags began to trigger left and right the moment Matt said 'Gosh darn you, Mello!' when Mello kicked his DS to the floor. It seemed to Mello the more upset Matt became, the more _pansy_-like he was.

"There's something off here, Matt…" Mello muttered, slightly disturbed as he clicked past yet another smiling face on the television screen.

"Maybe for you; I'm fine." Matt said distantly, pummeling the A button on his DS, moving his arms around violently as his hands stayed clutched to the small gaming system.

"There's no unhappiness here, Matt. It doesn't feel right. How can EVERYONE be happy? Why is this even possible…?" Mello questioned, stretching his legs out over the redhead's lap. Mello threw his head back against the arm of the couch, staring up blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought, then suddenly sat up, eyes widened and alert. Matt glanced up, just for a second, then went back to his game, attempting to weasel his way out of being involved in another of Mello's infamous 'ideas'. Mello shot daggers at the younger boy for his lack of worry, then thought the better of it. Matt seemed to be affected by this 'happiness'; now's a chance to test its limits…Mello threw his legs from the perch of the other man's lap to the floor, his boots creating a dull thud as they hit the hard wood floors. "So, Matt…"

"Mmm?" He cooed in response.

"You said they told you everyone comes here, right? When they die?"

"Mhmm…" Mello fumed at Matt's lack of attention and smacked the game system out of his hand. Matt looked up, his face in a pout. This was unlike Matt, Mello noted. On a normal day, Matt would've let a steady stream of profanities flow from his mouth before hitting the blonde over the head with the nearest throw-able object within the vicinity of his gaming calloused hands. Strike one. Mello still need more proof, and it now seemed as if he had obtained the gamer's full attention.

"I have a job for you." Mello pressed.

Matt sighed heavily, "Only you could be unhappy in a world of happiness." Strike two.

"I need you to hack into a database for me. I wanna find out the process of how these fucking number things are distributed." Mello continued, trying to fizzle out his anger by roughly scratching at the stream of numbers covering his forearm. "Get into the head-honcho's database, I have good reason to think they're hiding something."

Matt's eyes widened. "H-Hack into their computer? Mello, think about what you're asking me to do here- they could smite us!" Strike three. If there was one thing Mello knew about Matt, it was that he had this weird obsessive fetish with hacking computers, especially top security one's; 'the more secure, the more fun' had been the red-head's exact words when Mello would ask him to do such tasks. Matt never turned them down. Ever. But then again, Matt had never turned the blonde down either, no matter how outlandish the request; now was Mello's chance to see how much memories might have possibly been altered in the happiness process.

"Matt." Mello said, as if he was a mother scolding her failing child. "I need you to do this. It's very important that I know what's going on here." Mello seethed, trying to keep his cool.

Matt sat there for a moment, looking as if a fierce battle was taking place behind those dark-lensed goggles of his, then he finally let out a heavy sigh and looked over at the marred face of the other man. "Mello… I know you want to know what's going on. I know you have this… this weird control thing… But this, I think we just need to leave this alone… Let it be…"

That was it, Mello was on his feet and already flipping over the nearby coffee table in frustration. "Dammit, Matt! Can't you see they're fucking _brainwashing _you?!" He screamed, the noise alien to Matt's newly reborn ears, as if these ears weren't made to hear such a loud human voice. "You're corrupt! They're toying with your mind! With everyone's mind!" Mello got in Matt's face, screaming, "I'm trying to save your sorry ass, and all you do is sit there and act as if it doesn't matter." Matt responded to his screaming with a blank stare, only infuriating the blonde more. How could Matt be like this? Of all people, Matt was usually the one that understood, the one who would never doubt Mello for a second, even if the situation _were_ hopeless…Silence washed over the room like a tsunami, the only sound being Mello zipping up his leather jacket around him and his boots pounding on the floor towards the door. Upon reaching the door, Mello turned around, glancing at his friend, now in a catatonic and unresponsive state, with hope filled eyes, which soon turned into betrayal. He opened the door, stepped out, and was careful to slam it as loudly as possible.

* * *

70… 80… 90 MPH. The speed on Mello's bike steadily increased as his rage and betrayal grew. Mello would just have to fix it on his own. He had a decent amount of hacking skills on his own, and what he didn't know, surely he could figure out. He was head of the dammed Mafia; he could get to the bottom of some 'world of happiness'. Mello growled as he saw a line of cars across the road up ahead just far enough to give him time to slow down and stop. Three men, all with the same, dazed smile, same black suits and apparently the same intention, looked at Mello as his motorcycle screeched to a hault.

"Mind getting out of the friggin' road?" Mello called, then mumbled something about 'damned Cheshire cat look-a-likes'.

"Mello?" The middle one called.

Mello's eyebrow furrowed. "'the hell do you know my name?"

In response, the middle guy pulled a small lighter sized device out of his pocket and aimed it straight at Mello.

Before Mello was able to react, a blinding light flashed once, and everything went black.

**Part One Complete. **

**Part two loading…**

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**Complete. **


	8. Chapter 7

**Sorry if this chapter is a bit sucky, I have already written the chapter after this in my mind, so as far as I'm concerned, this will probably be short and kind of a drabble. The next one will be good. And graphic. And heart breaking. O.o**

Days went by. Weeks went by. No sign of Mello as far as Matt was concerned… But it was ok. Matt went to work, came home, played his game, and went to sleep. It seemed like the perfect circle. The way life after life was supposed to be lived. If Mello made it back into Matt's afterlife, so be it. If he didn't… Matt pondered the thought one day, and though it earned him an unwelcoming headache, he tried his hardest to focus on it. Mello was his best friend, after all. Shouldn't he be upset by his disappearance? Something in his mind automatically triggered to say no.

Matt ran his fingers through his hair, looking over to see his neighbor, not Lisa, but the one inhabiting the home on the other side. A rather tall man with a shock of black hair forming what looked like a crown upon his head, but that was all he could distinguish before he disappeared inside picture perfect house next door. The man was very strange, it seemed he never left his house, never went to his job and seldom made contact with anyone, even the bubbly Lisa. Something about the man set off an alarm in Matt's mind. An alarm that was trying to be forced off. Matt stared at the shut door for a few seconds as if he were trying to find some answer in the grain of the wood, but soon shook his head, slid into his Camero and drove happily to work. Today he got to be promoted to manager at the shoe outlet.

Eventually, all thoughts of Mello made themselves scarce in the redhead's mind. The only thing that mattered was pleasure. Pleasure was obtained by new games, which were obtained by money, which was obtained by his various jobs, which weren't so bad. Matt was well on his way to begin working in the big league, were you kept the same, high paying job, for a week, then moved to the next. Everything was falling into place.

Snow had just fallen when Matt stepped out of his front door. The chill nipped at his nose as he breathed in the fresh air, a thoroughly delighted smile on his face; this was when he had his second encounter with his neighbor. The man with black hair, still untidy as ever, looked over at Matt, a blank stare boring through Matt's skull. Matt looked back, uneasy, and waved with a smile. The man nodded in acknowledgement, then retreated slowly back to his home. '_The creeper…" _Matt thought, blowing the awkward encounter over his shoulder. '_Probably some child molester in his past life…' _And with that thought, he was rewarded a new headache and quickly averted his mind.

It was a Wednesday, meaning Matt was in the middle of his weekly career, and Matt and his co-workers warmly welcomed a new guy, probably about in his 20's. There was an air of uneasiness amongst them, as there always was when something out of the usual happened. Men hardly started a new job in the middle of the week. It just didn't happen. It was different. It was off. The man was fairly polite, though he seemed a bit robotic and slow, seeing as every time he was given a command, he stopped, thought about it for a second, then smiled toothily and complied. Matt arrived home rather late, he had decided to go out to dinner with a few friends, to see someone sitting, patiently, on his porch. It was his neighbor.

"Can I help you?" Matt asked, straightening up his tie and coat to his professional looking business suit.

The man looked up. "Jake, correct?"

Matt looked taken back. "Yeah…" He said, a bit of familiarity hinting in Matt's mind. "And you are…?"

The man paused for a moment. "Irrelevant… For now… But all in due time." He offered a friendly smile. There was something about this smile, something less… Robotic, like Matt had become accustomed to, and more genuine. "Do you mind if I have a word with you?"

Matt took another look at the man, then the door and nodded. Shuffling about in his pockets, Matt was finally able to fish out his keys and unlock the door. The man let himself in, his wide, round eyes darting everywhere, taking in his surroundings at once, then they finally rested on the couch were he walked over and perched on his now bare feet. "Have a seat." The man told Matt, as if the rolls of guest and host were switched. Matt complied without a hassle. "Now, Matt." The man said, meeting Matt's eyes for the first time during this encounter. "I'm going to make this short, and I am going to make this quick, so I please ask that you listen closely and carefully. This world has gone amiss. I myself would fix it if I could, but I am afraid time does not allow it. Listen to Mello. _Find _Mello. He is a very crucial part of this, and he will know where to start, for he already understand what is going on, maybe better than the both of us. DO NOT listen to the headaches, they only deceive." There was a hint of pleading in the man's almost slate black eyes. "Do what you have to do." He continued, the fished in his pocket, pulling out a small folded up piece of paper. "This would be a good starting place." The man, stood up, and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Matt said, drinking in every last word he had just been told. For some unknown reason not only had Matt had listened to this man over his own best friend but he also knew his true alias, he wanted to know why. "Your name?"

"Call me Ryuuk." The man said, staring straight at the door, not meeting the redhead's eager eyes. "But you may know me as L."

Immediately, Matt rushed to his car, memories and thoughts of once forbidden topics flooding over him as if a dam had been released. He needed to find Mello. He needed to find his friend. Matt unfolded the small sheet of paper that revealed a hand drawn, very detailed map.

**Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad chapter. Crappy chapter. Short chapter. Little snippet of L, but a crappy chapter. I literally wrote this in 30 minutes because I wanted it out of the way. I PROMISE the next chapter will be MUCH better. It is what the story has been leading up to… sorta. Anyways, it'll probably be longer before it comes out so… yeah. Patience is a virtue. Or something. **


	9. Chapter 8

**Well aren't you guys the lucky ones. I am now so deeply consumed by the MattxMello fandom that I have a pretty good drive to write. And I also now have a decent laptop. I find it really depressing that I can barely find anyone who is still overly obsessed with them still today. If you guys are there, let me know, ok? All the fan art, videos and stories I view are from '08 and crap… No recent stuff. I understand Death Note isn't the newest thing, but maybe I can re-awaken some spark for Matt and Mello? Maybe? Oh well. Anyways. Down to business. I'm writing again. Hopefully quicker updates seeing as I now have easy computing access, the story is beginning to get down to business (*spoiler* I love writing insanity… You'll see.) and my need to write about them increases by the second. Anyways. Enjoy!**

** Unrelated note: I'm so freaking happy! I now have the basic for my matt cosplay vest (still needs the fur stripes though), the jeans (that I shall make the lines in tomorrow), the boots and the goggles are in the mail! A-Kon 24 here I come :D And I shall now implode when I say I have discovered someone who plans to make an American Death Note. Really hope they go through with it, but I hope they don't screw it up. **

Hour after hour passed as Matt's eyes began to droop, the thought of a nap ever so harshly nagging at his mind. Upon leaving his house, the sun had barely bid it's farewell behind the trees, leaving the moon to creep into it's previous position. It had been six hours. Six strenuous hours behind the wheel watching the familiar pattern of blurred trees and street stripes pass him by. Though the accurate map on the scrap of paper L had given him was appropriately straight forward, the tiny shred had deceitfully portrayed the distance of the final location. The road ahead of him seemed bland, cold and repetitive. For the past three hours, Matt had long left the comfort of a well populated town in exchange for, much to his distaste, the heavily wooded path he was on now without any sign of civilization. Matt was beginning to wonder if he would ever make it out of his hell hole of a car. The lack of comfort began to take its toll on his 'pleasure amplified' mind, that is, if what Mello said was, against all odds, actually correct. "Where the hell are you, Mello…" Matt groaned to himself, reaching his hand over in need of a sip from yesterday's can of Mountain Dew.

Another hour passed and street lights were beginning to make their appearance along the streets once again. Matt smiled as he realized he was within the range of his destination when a single story building placed itself in his windshield. Reaching the parking lot, Matt pondered the possible outcomes of what he was about to do. Thinking the better, he parked just out of site of the building and cautiously walked up to the entrance. The cool slate grey parking lot seemed to stretch out for acres on either side of Matt, but there were only two cars in site. _Accept this place…_A voice overpoweringly made itself heard in Matt's mind. He stopped dead in his tracks, a gentle breeze tickling Matt's chilled cheeks. _Accept us. Accept us. We will help you. _Matt looked around, half way hoping to see some weirdo trying to speak with him. No one insight. He was alone. Matt shoved his frozen fingers in the warm comfort of his jacket pockets. Trying to show no sign of alarm, Matt kept walking. Everything was clicking in his mind like the pieces to Near's puzzles, at this point, he simply jumped to the conclusions that should have been staring him in the face all along. He felt so stupid for not realizing them any sooner. _They send out brain signals._ Matt thought hesitantly, ignoring the pounding in the back of his mind. It seemed so blindingly obvious all of the sudden that people here were too happy. Matt began to nit pick all the small things he should have noticed long ago. Mello had caught it far before he did, but that was because for whatever reason, all signals were void from his mind, leaving him an unhappy asshole as ever. _This is probably some place were all the rejects go._ A new question began to toy with Matt's brain. _Why am I all the sudden realizing this now?_ Beginning to return to his natural (or natural in the 'living' world) pessimistic self, Matt began to truly analyze the lie he had been living. _Making me forget about Mello was sort of a win, win for them. On one hand, they make me 'happy and without a care' on the other, they get to take an unwanted misfit and contort them to their twisted carefree world. _Matt was reaching the front doors of the main building, a sign read "After World Correction Center: Visitors Always Welcomed" Matt paused at the doors. _Do I just… Go in?_ Matt shrugged, _oh, what the hell. _

The automatic opened with a swoosh and revealed a tiny, mousy looking woman, short hair spiked and dangling hoop earrings that almost made contact with her shoulder as she turned to greet the strange man entering her facilities' doors. "Oh, deary, you're out late!" She chirped, her happy voice bringing a whole new shower of bitterness on Matt. "Well any who, can I help you?"

"I'm here to visit I guess." Matt replied, his voice lacking the cheer of the woman's.

"Name?"

"I suppose it would be under 'Mello'." Matt replied, unsure if Mello's true name would be in their system. This was too weird. Surely they'd make some attempt in stopping him, right? There must be some reason why they don't want Mello in society, why let Matt waltz right in, in the middle of the night, and let him-

"Oh! The Wammy Boy!"

"Excuse me?" Matt said, wide eyed at the name of their former orphanage.

"The Wammy Boy." She giggled again, here earrings clinking. "We haven't had a new one of them in awhile, but we usually end up getting all the Wammy children here eventually. They're 'special'." She said with air quotes. "As a matter of fact, we just released an older Wammy patient a few weeks ago. Strange fellow, never sat properly. If you ask me, I'd say he could've used a few more weeks." She shrugged, ending her rant. "But Mello," she laughed again, "he's a piece of work, let me tell you. Will not calm down. On the edge about everything! A real mess, that one."

"May I see him?" Matt asked, trying to avoid the now unfamiliar feeling of irritation welcoming him.

"Oh sure, if you want. Right this way." Stepping down from her seat at the front desk, she was a bit shorter than Matt had imagined, but he followed her nonetheless.

The front room, when you walked in, looked like that of an elegant hotel. The walls were painted a deep beige and floors carpeted a pure white, complete with oriental rugs and gothic styled furniture, but as he followed the woman, the building seemed to be getting a bit darker. The wallpaper began to curl at the edges, the carpet began to turn bald and worn, then it was straight concrete and ceiling lights became far and few in between. Further down, things only went bleaker. Screams and moans began to play drearily in the ambiance, the walls now looked like straight poured concrete splashed with a sterile white paint and the temperature began to drop to the outdoor's twenties and low thirties. Doors that weren't unlike those of prison isolation cell's lined the walls, approximately seven feet apart, each door accompanied by a file of the information of it's inhabitant. Finally reaching the end of the hallway they came to Mello's door, his file marked with a large red 'W'. "Well, here he is." She commented, turning the large wheel to open the door.

It was a rather small, windowless room, the walls the same dull and dark concrete as the floor and ceiling. The contents of the cell were in shambles. The small metal frame of a bed stood lonely and bent as its accompanying mattress was propped against the wall, its cushiony filling spilling out handmade rips and shreds and covering the room in untidy piles; the springs, rusted and bloody, rested in random places, some of which were now uncoiled . The blankets that probably once called the mattress home were now ripped into pieces, some shreds tied in knots but all drenched in blackening red stains, were scattered haphazardly. Once a dresser was now nothing but a mere heap of smashed splinters and blood in a corner. Blood and other bodily residue was smeared on the walls and floors, the odd shapes making no clear message that Matt could decipher.

The most sickening sight Matt found was the small blonde, hunched in the corner on the metal bed frame in the fetal position, sobbing. His skin had a sickly green tint behind the unhealthy amounts of dried blood smeared over every visible inch of his body; he worn nothing more than a tattered hospital gown. His once silky vibrant blonde hair was now a dull and dusty rat's nest, which was were his hands now resided and were tangled up in, and it appeared he had somehow reopened the old scars running down the left side of his body.

"He's a rather tough patient. Definitely a different one." The mousy woman commented, unfazed by the very sight that was sure to give Matt nightmares. "He likes to break stuff after his treatment." She chuckled half heartedly. "We like to call this the "Mello rage room. But… I-I think he's getting better! He didn't bite anyone today…" Matt held back his lunch just from her words. How could anyone treat Mello, of all people, this way? Matt looked at his friend again. Mello seemed so… Human. Matt never saw Mello as something as an equal to himself but rather as a superior, and it had always given Matt a sense of accomplishment when he disobeyed Mello. He would look at it as he had just said no to a god. Mello shivered in the corner, his back to the two person audience.

"C-Can he hear us?" Matt whispered in the only voice he could muster up. He felt like a five year old who had just been told superman was a lie. Nothing but make believe.

"Oh! Well, we think the treatment has given him involuntary selective hearing." She replied, interrupting herself in mid-story about a time when Mello had to be put in full restrains for a bath. "Sometimes he'll hear us at the door, then other times, poof! He's in his own little world." Matt couldn't take his eyes off the pathetic heap.

"Can I talk to him? Alone?" Matt asked, his voice barely audible.

The woman looked at Matt, then her patient. "Well… I suppose… You know what he's capable of right now? ... Though I'm sure he might respond well to visitors, he hasn't had any, he's been asking for some Matt fellow when he does calm down. Then he'll ask if he's received any mail… Actually he'll just yell mail, as if he's calling it. Don't suppose you know a Matt?"

Matt's heart dropped. Mello had been asking for him by both names. He had been desperate. "No… I don't…"

"Hmm..." The woman sighed, now looking bored. "Guess I leave him to you. Good luck at getting him to talk, I'm assuming you know how to handle him… Just be sure and shut the door when your done." The woman called, already halfway down the hall.

Matt turned back to his broken friend. "Mello?" Matt squeaked, hardly able to talk. The blonde responded in a shudder, but refused to turn around. "Mello." Matt continued, more confident. Mello's grip tightened in his hair, his fingers irritably twisting in the dirty locks; he was shaking uncontrollable now. Matt walked in, stopping halfway between the patient and his door. Mello's breathing became noticeably rigid, seeing as his shoulders were heaving up and down. "Mello, I'm here to help." Mello turned around sharply and quicker than Matt had ever seen him move, his blood shot eyes deeply contrasted their natural blue. He was now making angry inexplicable noises as Matt tried to inch closer. Mello's hostile gaze quickly turned to pure terror as he backed up in the corner like a caged animal, and his irate mumbling began to form words here and there.

"… This hell… all mine… it's here… never gone… I'm burning… can't lever… Damn it all… Forget it… I'm burning…" His eyes looked right past Matt as they darted from corner to corner of the room. "Mine… All Mine… It's hell…" His eyes stopped and landed on Matt. "My Hell." He whispered, not blinking as his eyes dilated. Matt stood there frightened.

"M-Mello, it's me, Matt." He tried.

Mello continued to stare at him for a second, his rapid breathing only becoming quicker. He sprang from his place on the bed frame and threw himself at Matt, almost knocking him over, and clawed at his shirt. "Matt!' He cried desperately, "I'm in Hell!" He screeched. "Save me!" He wailed as his legs gave out, his only support up being his arms tightly locked around Matt's neck.

"Mello, c-calm down." He stuttered, utterly terrified. "I'm here to help, I'm going to get you out of here."

Mello's constant thrashing stopped abruptly, as if he were pondering the thought, then he rose to his feet, removing his arms and supporting his own weight. His eyes looked up and bore into Matt's as his chin was ever so slightly tilted downward, his messy hair curtaining his face making him look all the more sinister; his eyebrows knit tightly together as he spoke. "I _can't _leave." He growled, turning around, pacing the room. "I CAN'T leave." He began to screech again. "I CAN'T!" He yelled, throwing parts of the dresser across the room were in hit the wall with a thud and just nearly missed Matt's head. Mello's hands imbedded themselves into his hair again and he began pulling out small chucks, throwing them this way and that. "CAN'T LEAVE. NOT ALLOWED." Mello threw himself on the floor, now crying uncontrollably. "I… Can't…" He sobbed.

Knowing he'd probably regret it, Matt stooped down to the blonde's level and tried to even out his voice. "Mello. You can leave." He said, trying to comfort and reassure him. "I'll let you leave."

"Y-You'll save… Me?" Mello sobbed, not meeting Matt's eyes.

"Yes, I will. We're leaving."

Mello turned finally to look at Matt, and slowly moved himself towards the redhead, resting his dirty forehead on the clean jacket. "Matt.." He whispered. "I'm in Hell... A-and I'm burning…"

"I know." Matt said in a guilt ridden voice. He had let this happen; he had let himself forget about his only friend. Now someone had taken Mello from him, maybe for good, and shredded his sanity to bits, all because he forgot to care.

"Matt… I'm broken, aren't I?" Mello continued, he voice defeated. Matt couldn't answer him, he just stood up, helping Mello in the process, unsure where to go from there.

**This was really fun to write, I was trying to make it a sad as possible towards the end though… I do good? Please review! **


	10. Chapter 9

**Meh. Nothing much to say besides I'm getting a bit depressed in the lack of MelloxMatt fandom now days… Save for very few other stories, this is the only ongoing MattxMello fan fic I can come across… Oh well… I feel like writing. Maybe I can reawaken lost fans. **

Right. Now to escape.

Matt scanned his surroundings, quickly calculating the likelihood of each escape and their back falls. Waltzing out the front door was pretty much out of the question. Though there was a chance the woman wouldn't think twice about letting the two of them leave on their own accord, the probability of her stopping them was too high. If the two of them getting caught meant this torture for the both of them, it wasn't worth the risk. They needed out with as little notoriety as they could muster up. Maybe sneaking out the front door? Probably next to impossible. Mello would be utterly useless at sneaking anywhere in this state; besides, the door were loud automatics in front of the tiny front desk. _Damn, I probably should've analyzed this place from the get go… _Matt thought, silently cursing, bringing himself and the shivering blonde to a stand. _C'mon Matt, king of improvisation, think of something. Think Assassins Creed… _Matt gritted his teeth, looking around, now desperate, when he saw a window, approximately 3x4 feet, sealed with metal bars just outside the door of Mello's cell. Upon closer inspection, Matt realized the bars were simply screwed down tightly into the concrete. _Does death really make people this stupid? _Matt thought with a smile, propping Mello up against the wall.

"Don't worry, I'll get you out of here." Matt said, partially to himself, already fashioning a tool with various scraps of metal from the decrepit bed frame. Meticulously untwisting the rusted and brittle chicken wire like mattress support, Matt began to construct a weapon of choice. Mello, beginning to gain partial sanity simply nodded, eyes still wide and blank. In no time, Matt had a decently constructed make shift screwdriver. Leaving the room, Matt hurried over to the window and began unscrewing the bars as best he could with the crude tool, unsure when the woman would be back to check on them. Matt almost jumped ten feet in the air when he felt something tug on his pants leg. He looked down to see the blonde, on his hands and knees, holding up a small rolled up piece of paper. A cigarette. Matt took it, feeling around in his pockets for the lighter he had always kept out of habit. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't had a cigarette since he'd been in the new world. Inhaling the toxic air he sighed in delight. He had never felt so alive since his death day. He felt more like Matt. Not just any Matt, but the very Matt that agreed to work with Mello, at any cost. The Matt that didn't take crap from anyone (unless you happened to be a certain temperamental blonde). The Matt that hacked entire top dollar databases for fun on the weekends. The Matt that refused to live by a prestigious societies rules. Snapping back to reality, Matt continued his tedious task, releasing the bars, screw by screw from their respective position. The red head freed the last screw and threw it to the ground with exaggerated force and looked back to his currently incompetent friend. Seeing the severity of the deterioration of Mello's muscle mass, Matt was almost certain he couldn't climb out the window (which was a good 4 feet from the floor) even in the right state of mind. Quiet frankly, he was surprised Mello was even capable of being able to move independently. Desperate to get out of this institution, Matt picked Mello up, despite his outbursts and harsh profanities, threw him out the now unrestrained opening and followed close behind.

"I can't leave!" Mello shrieked, now quivering in the chilled night air.

"Dammit, Mello, do you ever shut up?!" Matt hissed through clenched teeth, tossing the fussy blonde over his shoulder. To Matt's surprise, Mello complied and went silent. Maybe the further away you get from this place, the better you become? Matt broke out into a run, half way wanting to simply reach the car, half way wanting to get the hell away from this place. What alarmed Matt most was the fact that they weren't even chased. No alarms, yelling, demands to return; nothing but the soothing sound of chirping crickets. It chilled him to the bone. Something was off.

Finally reaching a place of safety, Matt clambered in his Red Camaro, but not before tossing a now unconscious Mello in the passenger side. Without sparing a moment, Matt started up his car and with a screech, the duo were on the road reaching speeds in the 80 and 90 ranges.

* * *

Wind squealed against the window panes as winter unleashed its wrath upon the land. A quiet click of a spoon against a bowl was the only other thing heard in the house as Matt idly stirred a bowl of chicken noodle soup that had grown cold hours ago. Mello had been asleep ever since they made it back to Matt's house. Was it foolish to go straight back home after breaking an asylum patient free? Absolutely, but the red head was quickly exhausting his options and settled to take their chances. He'd put his life on the line for the blonde if any unwanted visitors came to call.

_"We live for pleasure… Satisfied…" _Matt jumped at the whispered words, but didn't go to investigate. For the past few hours, Mello had been muttering heavy metal song lyrics in his sleep; Matt could only guess they had put him through some sort of heavy metal induced torture that included blaring, to the point of pain, metal and strobe lights. He had witnessed Mello using this same technique during the Kira case. It had been more that effective. "_… It's over… No place to hide…" _

"'Sure did fuck you up didn't they…" Matt muttered all previous feelings of happiness and content shriveled and dehydrated like a grape in the hot afternoon sun. "Bastards." He huffed through the rolled up mess of tobacco and paper obstructing his lips. For some reason, that very reason now fleeing the red head's fried brain, he thought it would be a brilliant idea to gut two cigarettes and roll them up into a single joint. He quickly learned, after a single drag, that it was a big mistake. Putting out the toxic mess, he carelessly tossed the remnants in the limbo that was his living room floor. His house as a whole had went to hell in the past few days. Partially full cups of various liquids Matt had tried to force down the defiant blonde's throat covered his coffee table, some teetering on the edge, other already meeting their relentless fate spilt and puddling on the jet black tile. An assortment of empty chip bags, soda cans and candy wrappers besieged the floor that wasn't covered in a blanket of dirty or unwanted clothes and video game cases.

Matt's mind was in utter chaos. There was something wrong here, that's for sure. There's no way in hell this is a simply place of paradise. He had to get out of here. Both he and Mello needed to leave, but how? How could he leave the earth, or at least the substitute he was on now? Come back to life? Impossible. Even If he did somehow find a way to 'come back to life' his and physical body was the equivalent of Swiss cheese, not to mention six feet under, and therefore incapable of sustaining life. Maybe Mello would have an idea, if he ever did get back to normal. Surely Mello would know what to do, or at least make the situation better. That is, of course, if he came back. But he would; Mello is invincible.

Matt laughed to himself, did he really just think that. Shaking his head in attempt to clear unwanted thoughts, his line of sight directed him to the couch where the blonde lay, unmoving, on his right side, exposing his burn wounds he used to try so desperately to hide. Hell, maybe he was invincible. Not even death had truly stopped him. The first time Matt was introduced to Mello in this world, the blonde had already been set on taking down this entire world because it felt off. Mello, at least, thought he was invincible. The self worshiping bastard. Damn, there goes that headache.

Matt groaned audibly to himself, running gloved fingers through his greasy hair, and fixed his attention on the blank T.V screen. Games. Games could get his mind off this. Popping his neck, Matt pushed himself to his feet and half heartedly put in the first game that made its way to his aching hands and fed it into its corresponding gaming console. If only life were as straight forward as a video game.

* * *

It was easily 2 in the morning when he finally heard the blonde stir. He paused the game and looked over just in time to be greeted by a large, undignified yawn from the Mafia leader himself. Really? Now of all times? It was just like Mello to wake up during a boss battle. Rolling his eyes, Matt reverted his eyes back to the T.V and began pounding the buttons furiously. Mello's eyes fluttered open, just slightly, but he was now conscious to realize the gamer's fat ass was restricting the blood circulation in his feet. "Matt, move yurass…" he mumbled, his words jumbled and confused. Mello winced at the pain the shot up his leg as he attempted to wiggle his toes. Mello was in such a daze, he didn't really acknowledge the situation he had been put in a few hours, maybe even days, ago; all he knew was Matt was sitting on his feet, and if the pain was any indicator, he had been there for awhile, and all because he was playing a damn _video game. _The red head's obnoxious habits began flood back into Mello's brain. "Damn it Matt, Move." Mello growled, though it wasn't nearly as intimidating as he intended.

"Mmmm….. Hold on a sec…Just gotta… Beat this one guy…"Matt said, punctuating his sentence with the continuous mashing of buttons.

Now tired of asking, Mello turned his attention to the nearby coffee table for something to _throw… Plastic bowl? Nah, empty. Coffee cup? Just as empty as the bowl… Soda can… Half full and still cold, he must be in the process of drinking it now… Perfect. _Wrapping his fingers around the chilled beverage, Mello gave a valiant attempt at throwing it at the red head; though he succeeded, unfortunately some of the syrupy liquid splashed on his face as well. Reacting a good five seconds late, Matt gave Mello a look that had a striking resemblance to a seriously pissed off 2-year-old.

"Damn it, Mello! I feed and water your sorry vegetable ass and this is how you repay me?!" Matt griped, obviously more upset about the sticky controller than his sopping wet hair.

"Get. Off. My. Feet." Mello said through his teeth, his voice now void of any sleep.

* * *

Any discussion of what had happened to Mello or if he was ok was automatically dismissed. Mello refused to talk about it and Matt, eventually quit trying to pry. Days went by and life was normal, per say, as normal and uneventful as their life could be. Mello became a hermit to his laptop, determined to find any cracks or crevices of this 'perfect' world, occasionally asking Matt to hack a system. Mello seemed more or less normal, or "Mello-Normal", as Matt called it; which consisted of going through case after case of chocolate bars and staying up for days on end, deeply engrossed in his work.

Matt looked over at Mello, now contently typing away on his laptop at the kitchen table. Ever since the discovery of the single murder case in the history of this world, Mello had been so obsessed with the case, he hardly stirred when Matt would, now routinely, throw paper balls at his unmoving head. The silence was nice at first; Matt had beaten all the worlds in kingdom hearts twice, but there was something about meeting Peter Pan a third time without interruption that unnerved him. It had to be a week or so now, at least, since they found out about the deeply concealed case. Matt sighed as the chilly winter wind zipped through the paper thin walls and brushed itself against his bare cheeks. A short realization probed his thoughts.

"Mello?"

"Hnn?"

"What's today?"

"I don't know." His voice was cold and tired.

"Can you check?"

"Mmm.." He cooed, vacantly nibbling on a chocolate bar as his sunk in eyes darted this way and that across the computer screen. It had been three days since Matt had actually been positive about the blonde's sleeping habits. There were nights when Mello would mutter something about going to bed in a minute, but Matt would make up the next morning to find his friend in the same position, same spot, as the previous night. Matt had brought him back from one un-Mello-like extreme and was now going to have to bring him back from the other.

"Mello." Matt insisted, his voice now more stern.

"Hmm?"

"Mello look at me."

"What?" Mello replied, speaking his first true words of the day at 9 o' clock at night. Though he tilted his body slightly towards the red head, and looked as if he had intentions to turn his head, his eyes were still fixated to the glowing screen.

"Mello, look at me!" Matt yelled, a volume his voice was unfamiliar to.

"What, Matt?! What is it now? What blatantly ridiculous tidbit of pointless information do you wish to bestow upon me now?" Mello replied, his head whipping around sending stringy, un-kept blonde hair in affray around his face, voice now matching the volume of the other mans'.

"What is today?" Matt growled.

Mello rolled his eyes, hand back on the mouse pad. "I don't know, Saturday?" He said, exasperated.

"No, actually, it's Thursday; That's not what I meant, I mean the numerical date."

"Matt, you know I really don't keep up with these things- December something? I don't know." Mello said, slowly losing frustration and interest in the conversation.

"Well you got that right…" Matt mumbled, looking at the calendar on his Nintendo DS. "I guess I'm not important enough to even interrupt your studies and wish you a happy birthday. It's December 13th, Mello. Happy freakin' 21st birthday." He spat bitterly.

Mello's hands paused on the keyboard at the words, but he didn't dare meet Matt's eyes. "So it is… Thanks, I guess…"

* * *

_So sad… _Matt thought, hiding in the warmth of his Pikachu bedspread. He sounded so sad it made Matt sick to his stomach.

"Mr. Wammy?" Matt had finally mustered up the courage to come out of his room and ask what was so horrible that it made the new pretty blonde boy cry. Matt had only seen Mr. Wammy at the institution twice, and that was only when new, permanent, students came to live at Wammy's institution, in this case, the now sobbing boy. Matt had be one of the lucky few children who still had parents and was actually chosen for the Wammy institute: even though he was only four, he was prided in taking the Wammy courses through the school year and going back home to his parents over summer and spring break. "Wh-why is the new boy crying?" Matt asked, wincing as a new fit of crying had started back up.

looked back at him with caring eyes, though Matt had hardly seen face to face, he kept in contact with the kids on a quite regular bases, especially Matt. "Well, Matt…" He stooped down to the four year old's height. "Maybe you can help me with something. It's Mello's- the little boy in the crying- birthday. His first birthday since his parent's… accident." He paused as a load, painful yowl filled the air. Matt squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back his own tears. That cry, it was so painful to listen to, Matt felt his heart sink lower and lower with every sob. "He thinks he's here all alone, Matt."

"But he's not!" Matt said, eyes wide at the thought of being alone. "You're here! And me, I'm here."

"That's right." Mr. Wammy, smiled. "But, I don't think he knows that. Do you think you could tell him for me?" Matt shook his head dutifully and trudged off to the weeping room, socks sliding to a stop in front of the door. There, sitting in a now forming puddle, was the small heep of a boy. Pieces of clean, thin and angelically blonde hair had plastered itself with shed tears to the whimpering boy's reddened cheeks. Matt froze at the sight, he had never seen anything like it. The fact that something so seemingly flawless could feel so sad sickened him; he felt his shoulders physically droop. He had to help. The cherub-like boy desperately needed to know he wasn't alone.

"Hello…" Matt said, his voice swallowed by a new bout of tears. "I'm here…" He continued, his voice even softer than last time and just the same, unheard. Matt let out a sigh and took a deep breath, now walking into the room. "I'm here!" He said in a voice that he was sure would be a yell, but only turned out to only consist of nothing more than the same volume of an indoor voice; nonetheless, it was heard. The weeping boy stopped, hollering, but was still crying as he turned, full face, to Matt, whose heart seemed to be lost in an abyss of sorrow.

"Wh-what?" The blonde spat through tears.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Matt said, sitting a foot away from the new boy.

"It d-doesn't m-matter to y-you."

"It's ok."

"N-No! I-It's not f-fair! He screamed, sure to start a new episode. "Th-they left m-me! I-I'm all alone! Th-they l-left me…" he said, voice now inaudible.

"No…." Matt countered, shaking his head vigorously, "Your not alone, I'm hear!" He said, beating his cheat as if to prove his existence, but the boy didn't seem to care.

"A-All… A-Alone…." He wailed.

"No, No, NO! I'm here, I'm here!" Matt insisted, throwing his arms around the boy. "I'm here!"

After that, Matt seemed to be the only one to ever get Mello to stop crying, which he did quiet often until the announcement of the successors being needed. After that, Mello never shed a tear, or at least not one that the public eye could see. On occasion, sobs could still be heard from the blonde's room, but Matt had always been there to remind him he wasn't alone.

* * *

Not 10 minutes after Matt's bitter reminder, Mello shut down his laptop and joined his friend on the couch, who was now flipping through the dreadfully cheery television stations. Finally settling on a comedy, Matt threw the remote into the limbo that was their living room floor. Seeing as Mello did most of the cleaning and Matt cared more about the lint between his toes than the cleanliness of their house, the room the two men had been living in the past few days had gone from a mess to complete and utter chaos. Chocolate wrappers askew this way and that, various energy drinks stood proudly half drunken and some of which now resided on their side, the contents long soaked into the carpet encouraging the ungodly smell to grow, thousands upon thousands of tiny sheets of post it notes rolled into tiny balls formed mountains around where Mello had been in a seeming comatose, where Matt had been able to find all this paper was to be undetermined, and quiet frankly, Mello didn't give a flying flip. Beginning to feel uncomfortably warm against the heat of another person opposed to the cool wood of the kitchen chair caused Mello too pull back his now over grown hair with a rubber band, he winced in disgust at the greasy texture of it.

Matt stole a glance at Mello, who stared distantly at the television set. Besides the fake laughter spewing from the television program, everything was silent; but it was a comfortable silence.

**Yeah. Awkward ending, I know… I just needed to end this, cause I needed to publish SOMETHING. I have no excuses for not updating, I just haven't had the drive. I've really considered deleting this whole thing and taking back these chapters to rewrite, edit, and publish a more complete and attached feel. **

**This also brings me to the fact that I need an editor. DESPERATLY. Not really so much for grammatical stuff, just to get an outside opinion… So if any of you guys want the job… **

**And yes, I got an idea from Puddle. Sue me. **


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